Time Out

There's a dry sour patch sitting at the back of my tongue, and I rub it against the roof of my palate just to feel it grate.

Unconsciously, I swallow again as I glance at the time at the bottom of the screen. Almost 6pm. Another day's almost over, and I'm still a tangled mess of nervous energy.

I blink, and clamp my eyelids close for another 2 seconds. Immediately, I almost release their hold as tears sting my eyes into life. I wish I had a mirror nearby so that I can see how red and parched they are.

It's been 9.5 hours since I last saw sunlight. 9.5 hours since I had the urge for genuine contact with a fellow human. Release seems faintly possible, but only if I force my way through a relentless surge of emails.